


Goodbye, Rumlow...

by ChrissiHR



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (past) Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow, Darcy Lewis Bingo, Darcy Lewis Bingo 2020, Dark Humor, F/M, Gen, I apologize in advance to the Taserbones readers, Minor Character Death, Other, Poptarts, Promptober, Song Parody, Songfic, Spooktober, That's it, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Undead, Zombies, abuse of a corpse, creature feature, dlbingo, dlbingo2020, i did what i did, mentions of domestic violence, minor violence on screen, no beta we die like men, one man in particular, only Nazis die, repurposed song lyrics, that's the fic, this is the most thelma & louise thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissiHR/pseuds/ChrissiHR
Summary: Jane Foster and Darcy were the best of friends, all through their Culver days. Both members of the Thor Fan Club, both signed a stack of NDAs.After the Destroyer, Jane Foster went out lookin' for a bridge to Thor.Darcy looked all around this town and all she found was Rumlow.
Relationships: Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis
Comments: 30
Kudos: 64





	Goodbye, Rumlow...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SerialObsessor (ibelieveinturtles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/gifts).



> Title: Goodbye, Rumlow…  
> Pairings: Darcy & Jane, Darcy/Brock (mentioned)  
> Darcy Lewis Bingo square filled: Y4 poptarts  
> Spooktober prompts: dig | grave | undead
> 
> Read the tags! 🤣 Oh, man, we’re starting off Spooktober with a bang! *snickers* This fic does include minor character death which is an extreme rarity for me, but it’s no one who doesn’t absolutely deserve it in this instance. ;-) I’m going to apologize to the Taserbones shippers right here. Y’all, please just remember that this is a collection of Halloween fics and I mean your faves no harm under normal circumstances. 
> 
> | (Highly) Suggested Listening: "[Goodbye, Earl](https://youtu.be/Gw7gNf_9njs)" by The Chicks (fka The Dixie Chicks) -- If you choose not to listen to the song or don’t know it well, the beginning of this story isn’t going to make a lick of sense to you because it’s a song parody. You can even sing along to the parts of the story written in italics! |

_Jane Foster and Darcy were the best of friends, all through their Culver days. Both members of the Thor Fan Club, both signed a stack of NDAs._

_After the Destroyer, Jane Foster went out lookin' for a bridge to Thor._

_Darcy looked all around this town and all she found was Rumlow._

_Well, it wasn't two months after she got married that Darcy started gettin' abused. She'd put on dark glasses or long sleeved blouses, or make-up to cover a bruise. When she finally got the nerve to file for divorce, she let S.H.I.E.L.D. take it from there, but Rumlow waltzed right through Colonel Fury’s orders and put her in intensive care._

_Right away, Jane Foster dropped in from Asgard on a rainbow bridge late at night. She held Darcy's hand as they worked out a plan and it didn't take 'em long to decide._

_That jackbooted thug had to die._

_Goodbye, Rumlow..._

_Those black-eyed peas, they tasted alright to us, Rumlow. You're feelin' weak? Why don't you lay down and sleep, Rumlow? Ain't it dark wrapped up in that tarp, Rumlow?_

“Darce, lift your end up higher. He’s slipping! Ew! Why is he still so juicy?!” Jane gagged as something dripped out of a loose fold at her end.

Darcy hefted her end up on one knee and gave a shove, letting the weight of the … tarp carry itself over the lip of the tailgate. “How should I know? I grew up in the desert. I’ve never—” She gestured to the badly wrapped bundle of tarp hanging half-out of the truck bed. “—had to deal with one, uh, this size. Just some pets at my folks’ place in the desert. Old pets, mostly fur and bone, and everything just dried out and shriveled up back home.”

“I’m seriously regretting telling Sif we could manage on our own.” Jane huffed and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “We should’ve wrapped him in a rug, absorbed some of the fluids,” she mused, puffing at her bangs again.

“You look good with bangs, Janie. Trying something new?” Darcy tried to make conversation and studiously avoid the rotting elephant in the room.

“Yeah, I got distracted and leaned in too close to a plasma cutter. Lost half the new magesmith workshop Frigga built me in the scholars’ court, too. Figured I should just cut my losses with what burned off and salvage what I could from what was left.” She heaved her end in the direction of the tailgate with decidedly less grace than previously and gestured to her hair situation. “I think it works with my helm, at least, which, I mean, _thank Frigga_ I only have to wear _that_ on formal occasions.”

“Did Odin really give you a goat-horned helm?” Darcy snickered, pushing at the bundled lump until Jane’s end was securely over the lip of the tailgate. She gave it a shake to make sure the latch had engaged. They almost did a quick roshambo to decide who was driving, but Jane, with her incredibly useful diplomatic immunity, won that argument when she decided roshambo was a dumb way to decide when, obviously, the one with immunity should drive.

Rumlow had been stuffed in his hidden, empty weapons safe under the shed out back long enough, anyway. They risked someone finding him if they didn’t unload him somewhere soon. And with the Nazi serum still in at least some of him, Darcy wouldn’t put it past the fucker to heal and wake up swinging. Better to feed him to whatever lives in the Potomac now than risk another near miss like the one they’d had the day before. 

_Agent Barton came by to bring Rumlow in. He searched the house high and low. Then he tipped his bow and said, “Thank you, ladies. If you hear from him, let me know.”_

_Well, the hours ticked by and day turned to night, and night faded into dawn._

_And it turns out Rumlow was a missing person who nobody missed at all._

Even Barton, as he was leaving the day before, warned, “Best not stick around, ladies. No telling what else he got up to. You’ve got friends on Asgard. Tonight’d be a good time to shout for Heimdall, _clear this place out._ ” He added a wink and disappeared down the path to Rumlow and Darcy’s back alley. 

_So the girls loaded their man and hit the road with a plan, out to highway 109._

_Everything was going fine until they got to the old White Line, when a shadow passed by Darcy’s line of sight…_

_Rumlow hadn’t died._

“Fuck, Jane!” Darcy screamed as a desiccated hand broke through the back window. 

“Motherfucker!” Jane shouted. “Darce, take the wheel,” her boss bestie ordered, dropping out of Rumlow’s reach and coming up with an axe. 

A _big_ fucking axe. 

“Is that.” Darcy gasped and screamed when undead Rumlow grabbed her by the hair and yanked, slamming her head against what was left of the window. Then she heard the inhuman snarling coming from his mouth. 

“You better not be a goddamn serum zombie, you asshole!” she shrieked as Jane hefted Stormbreaker and brought it down swiftly, separating Rumlow’s hand from his arm at the elbow. 

“You should have stayed dead, fuckface,” Jane growled, pointing Stormbreaker through the window and lighting Rumlow up with the Bifrost. “Go to Hel.”

Darcy watched in the rearview as what was left of Rumlow disintegrated into particles of sparkly, rainbow light and ash. 

“We should have done that in the first place,” Darcy panted, pulling over so they could inspect the damage. All that was left of Rumlow was his combat boots, smoking in a pile of ash. Even the tarp he’d been wrapped in had been wiped out of existence. 

“Poison is supposed to be cleaner,” Jane remarked, doing something with Mewmew Senior to activate its self-cleaning feature and burn off the grisly shit left by severing undead!Rumlow’s crusty zombie hand. Then she did something woo-woo with her free hand and some tiny rainbows, and Stormbreaker disappeared inside her jacket like a pocket chihuahua. “At least we don’t have to dig a grave or find a shiver of bull sharks in the Potomac to feed him to now. You wanna find a Sheetz, vacuum up the zombie dust, maybe get some limited edition poptarts to celebrate?”

“Diner. Coffee,” Darcy managed when her heart stopped racing. “There should be one just down the road here. Then I wanna get the fuck out of this town. It’s crawling with monsters and creeps.”


End file.
